Damaged Souls - Part 10/?
Title: Damaged Souls - Part 10/?
Pairings: Faint Jack/Ianto and Willow/Tosh, past mention of Owen/Gwen, mention of Spike/Ianto, and some Spike/Owen. (This chapter)
Word Count: 3,188
Rating: PG-13 (This chapter)
Status: Incomplete
Note: This is the third and final fic of a series I've begun. This story begins shortly after Buffy's Chosen.
Summary: BTVS crossover - When Ianto returns to Cardiff, Jack and the Torchwood team must figure out how to react to the changes in him, as well as how to react to the new friends this unfamiliar Ianto brought with him.
Previous Stories:
Story One: Moving On
Story Two: While You Were Gone
This Story:
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9
New Chapter:
He was cold.
He was cold and his back hurt.
He squeezed his eyes shut, planning to rub them with the heels of his hands, though that plan was quickly demolished when his elbows hit the ceiling.
What?
He opened his eyes a slit, blue orbs popping open when all that was before him was darkness.
Darkness and white plastic.
The same white plastic they used for the body bags.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
Ianto gave a terrified sob, hands searching for a way out, but he was trapped in the bag. Oh, God. He was going to die in here.
He squeezed his eyes shut, tears slipping through, and making little puddles on the floor of the bag.
He didn’t want to die like this.
A choked sob.
Jack...
---
Jack lay on the small bed in his barrack, turned on his stomach, and his pillow bunched under his chin. He felt like he should be crying. Ianto was gone. But all he could muster were dry sobs. It was like he’d cried himself dry.
He hadn’t wanted to leave, hadn’t wanted to close up that bag and admit that Ianto was gone. His hand had shaken when he wrote Ianto’s name on the card that they’d place on his drawer. He doubted anyone would be able to read it.
Lights erupted next to him, and he scrambled to his feet, cursing himself for leaving his gun up in his office.
The lights died as quickly as they came and Jack stared in shock at what was in front of him.
Ianto.
Ianto Jones was lying on his bed alive.
Alive and crying.
He dropped to his knees, cradling Ianto against his chest as he felt a new supply of tears build behind his eyes. He closed his eyes, burying his face in Ianto’s hair, breathing in his scent as tears dripped off his lashes.
Ianto struggled against him, weak and afraid. He calmed as Jack began whispering into his ear, his voice draining any fight left in Ianto. “Jack?” he whispered, barely in a croak. His throat hurt, dry and unused. How long had he…how long had he been in the morgue?
“I’m here,” Jack reassured, his face still buried in Ianto’s hair.
Ianto breathed out slow, relaxing against Jack. He stiffened a second later. “Oh, God. Willow.”
Lights exploded beside them and Jack edged to the wall, Ianto in his arms.
“Willow,” Ianto whispered when the lights died away, scrambling from Jack’s arms and crawling the small distance to Willow; three people in a place that could barely hold one. He latched on, the redhead returning the frantic hug as both of them cried.
“Ianto?” Willow sobbed. “Where...”
“Jack’s quarters. We were…God, what were we doing in the morgue?”
It felt like a hand gripping his heart as Ianto’s question reached his ears. He sounded broken.
Ianto turned to him, eyes searching for an answer. “Jack, what were we doing down there?”
“Dead,” Jack whispered, almost inaudible, “You were dead.”
Ianto and Willow paled, holding on to each other tighter.
---
Gwen hit the coffee machine, palm slamming against the contraption.
It wouldn’t work.
Ianto was the only one that knew how to work it.
Arms wrapped around her from behind and she turned, breathing in Owen’s scent as he held her to his chest. He smelled like sex, nothing new. The smell had always seemed to cling to him after. It always did when they were…
There was nothing between them anymore except for the somewhat awkward friendship that came from sleeping with a coworker. It was comfort. Two friends mourning their loss.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, face buried in the juncture between his neck and his shoulder, her cheek scratching against dry blood.
Her brow furrowed and she pulled back a bit to inspect it. There was movement from behind Owen, alerting her attention to that instead.
She screamed.
She pushed away from Owen, darting around him as she plowed into Ianto, attaching herself to him in a vice grip. “Ianto. Cariad.”
She felt Ianto kiss the crown of her head and she tightened her grip for a second before pulling back. She kissed his cheek.
Jack pulled Ianto against his chest when she pulled away, unwilling to let go of the younger man.
She hugged Willow. “You’re both okay.”
---
Willow smiled, returning the hug of a woman she didn’t really know, touched that Gwen was including her in her joy. “Good as new.” She pulled back, looking around. “Where’s Xander?”
“He was heading to the archives when I left,” Gwen turned towards Ianto, “Tosh is down there, too.”
“M-F?”
“Yes.”
Ianto nodded, glancing at Jack for a moment before he pulled away, offering Willow his hand. He waited until she accepted before leading her towards the archives.
---
Xander sat beside Tosh, listening to her tell her about the picture strip in her hand.
“We’d thought the machine was broken, it was taking so long for the pictures to print,” she smiled fondly at the memory, shaking her head, “I hadn’t even noticed Ianto leave until he poked me with the arm of this little teddy bear I’d seen in one of the claw games.”
Xander chuckled. “He always seemed good at those. Dawn wouldn’t let him walk by one without winning her something.”
“Was he happy there?”
“I think so. I mean, as happy as someone could be when they spend most of their time ‘training’ with Spike.”
“He never told us about him. Were they happy?”
“I guess. They had their thing: fight and screw. You wouldn’t believe the mess they made of Buffy’s basement. She went nuts.”
Tosh frowned. What kind of relationship had Ianto gotten himself into?
“I remember that. She went after us with Mr. Pointy.”
Xander and Tosh snapped their vision to the end of the aisle, both of their eyes widening at the figures in front of them; Ianto was leaning against the long shelf; Willow waved at them, smiling wide.
Tosh was on her feet in a second, throwing herself at Ianto, and sending him into the shelf.
Xander was slower, walking up to Willow, disbelieving. He looked at her, desperate. “Wills?”
Willow smiled, nodding, her arms held wide. She closed them around Xander when he dove at her, shoulders shaking. She squeaked when he lifted her off her feet, spinning them around once.
“I couldn’t call Buffy. I couldn’t tell her you and Ianto were…”
“You don’t need to,” she whispered into his ear, “We’re right here.”
---
Tosh was crying, crying and clutching onto Ianto for all she was worth. “You’re okay.” She pulled back, putting the photo strip in front of his face. “We are going out and we are doing this again. I need more than one picture strip with my best friend.”
“Two is better?”
Tosh hugged him again. “Yes.” She smiled, pulling away again, trading places with Xander. She hugged Willow, happy that she was okay too. She hadn’t had long to speak to Willow before Abaddon-she held back a shudder-came, but she’d liked the American woman. She was nice.
And she had great books.
She pretended she didn’t hear the voice in the back of her head telling her that Willow was absolutely gorgeous.
---
Spike walked into the upper level of the Hub, sending a smirk at Owen, and feeling satisfied with himself when the doctor flushed and darted towards the medical bay. He turned, looking at the conversing Jack and Gwen, raising an eyebrow as Gwen began to smile and hop. What had her so excited? Her friend just died.
He froze as the approaching scents reached his nose and he spun on his heel, spotting them just as they reentered the Hub.
“I can’t get rid of you lot, can I?”
Ianto rolled his eyes. “Apparently not.”
Willow giggled, hugging Spike quick and shooting behind Xander before he could figure out what had happened. “Happy to see you, too, Spike.”
“I’m not,” Xander muttered.
Spike glared at him. “I can hear you, Cyclops.”
“Um,” Tosh cut in softly, “Not that I’m not ecstatic that you’re back and everything, because I am. You’re both okay. But…um…how?”
Ianto shook his head. “I have no idea.”
---
“I may have an idea,” Willow said, raising her hand a bit. She blushed when everyone turned to her, minus Owen who was hiding down in his medical bay and probably couldn’t hear them. She wasn’t sure about him. She knew he’d seen them earlier, back when Gwen had seen them. He and Ianto were friends. It didn’t make sense that he hadn’t said anything.
“Wills, come back to Earth,” Xander joked, breaking her from her thoughts.
“Sorry.” She blushed more. “I…um…While we were…dead, I guess, I had a dream…well, I thought it was a dream.” She sighed. “I saw Tara.”
Xander’s brows shot to the ceiling.
Ianto stood beside Willow, mouthing a don’t ask to the Torchwood team.
“She said something about the Slayer spell that Ianto and I did back in Sunnydale, that we shouldn’t have survived the backlash.”
“So how did we?” Ianto asked.
“We’re strong. She said that the backlash and the level of our magic mixed and that it…” She trailed off, mumbling the rest too quiet to hear.
“Little louder, Wills.”
“Made us immortal,” she whispered. “The PTB thought it would be better to…you know, keep us alive than to let us die.”
“So we’ve been immortal since Sunnydale?”
Willow nodded.
“You’re saying I’m stuck with these visions for eternity?”
Willow nodded again.
“Great,” Ianto muttered, sarcastic.
Willow stared at Ianto, smiling softly. She couldn’t tell Ianto that it was for the best, couldn’t tell him what Tara had told her. She couldn’t tell him that the visions had been killing him. He’d been okay before Sunnydale since they’d happen when he was asleep, but after he’d gone to Sunnydale and they’d gotten worse, his body wasn’t equipped to handle the strain the visions brought.
She couldn’t tell him. He complained about the visions, but she knew he was grateful to them when they could save people.
Ianto returned the smile halfheartedly before he turned, going towards the medical bay.
---
“Is there a reason you’re avoiding me?”
Owen jumped, scalpels falling from his hand as he spun to face Ianto. He met Ianto’s gaze for a split second before he lowered them back to the ground and began picking up the fallen instruments. “I’m not.”
“You are. You didn’t say anything when we came up earlier. I saw you with Gwen.” Ianto shook his head, walking completely into the medical bay and sitting himself on the autopsy table.
“Don’t sit there!” Owen almost shouted, his face almost completely white had it not been the hint of green. He sighed, relieved, when Ianto slid off, and grabbed Ianto’s arm, propelling him to the other side of the small area.
Ianto stared at Owen, turned his gaze to the autopsy table, and back to Owen. His hand rose to his chest, fingers tracing the non-existent marks. “Oh.”
“I couldn’t do it,” Owen murmured. “Couldn’t cut you open and…” He stopped, swallowing thickly.
Ianto’s face softened and he stepped forward, pulling Owen against him much like Jack had done to the doctor after Jack’s return from the dead. He held Owen tight, a few silent tears of his own slipping down his cheeks. He closed his eyes as Owen sobbed out apologies for what he’d said.
They didn’t know how long they stood like that, but when Owen composed himself and pushed Ianto away, he was blushing.
Owen ran his hands through his hair, embarrassed at breaking down, and tugged on his shirt. He looked up, confused, when Ianto snorted back a laugh. “What?”
Ianto smirked. “How was it?”
“What?”
“Spike,” Ianto replied, gesturing to Owen’s neck and making the doctor flush.
“I…I didn’t…”
Ianto chuckled, shaking his head. He turned his back to Owen, unbuttoning his shirt, and exposing his back. He kept his back bare for a minute, letting Owen see the bite marks from encounters past before he pulled his shirt back over his shoulders and rebuttoned the garment. He turned back to Owen, shaking his head again at the dumbfounded expression on Owen’s face, waving his hand in front of the frozen face. “Owen.”
“I…you’re a chew toy.”
Ianto paused for a second, his brain processing Owen’s comment before he laughed.
Owen watched Ianto laugh, trying to decide whether he should be cherishing the laugh like a sap or if he should be yelling at Ianto for not defending himself. He didn’t get to make a decision before he felt a flash of pain shoot across his head and chest. The air rushed out of his lungs and he sunk to his knees.
Ianto was beside him, he knew that. He could hear the man yelling at him and for the others, swearing in what could only be Welsh. He couldn’t answer Ianto. Fuck, he couldn’t even breathe.
He tried to suck air in, only succeeding in a wheezing sound as his lungs refused to function.
Stabs at his chest and in his head. They hurt. Tears pricked his eyes; fear, pain.
Then suddenly it was gone.
Air rushed into his lungs and he toppled to the side, falling half onto Ianto as he tried to suck in every bit of oxygen in the Hub. His lungs filled to capacity-bloody beautiful-and he exhaled slow, repeating the action a second later.
His mind felt foggy as he leaned against Ianto, and he couldn’t summon the strength to lift his head from the Welshman’s shoulder. Ianto’s breath against his ear was uncomfortable, his short hair blowing, and tickling the back of his ear. Fucking hell, he couldn’t move or tell Ianto to stop fucking breathing on him.
“Well, that was weird.”
Female voice.
American.
Willow.
What was weird? What was that? He wanted to ask questions, needed to know what the hell that was, but he couldn’t speak.
“Spike, you okay?”
Spike, Ianto? Spike? Who was the one leaning against you like a fucking damsel in distress? Him. Not the bite-happy vampire.
“Better than him.”
Asshole.
At least he sounded like he was in just as much pain.
He felt arms wrap around him, smelled Jack’s scent as the captain pulled him away from Ianto and up onto the autopsy table. He saw Spike be placed beside him out of the corner of his eye and fell into the blonde when Jack released his grip.
Something washed over him and he…he felt fine.
What the fuck?
Owen lifted his head from Spike’s shoulder with a strength he didn’t have a second ago. He looked around the room, confused and looking for an answer, but everyone else had the same expression.
Fat load of help they were.
“I think…” Willow began, unsure, “I think I need to call Giles.” She ran out of the medical bay a second later.
They were in the same places when Willow returned twenty minutes later, looking sheepish as she pulled Ianto over and out of hearing range of the group as she whispered in his ear. He nodded at her, making the redhead’s face match her hair.
Oh, that couldn’t be good.
They rejoined the group, Ianto being the first to speak. “Spike, Owen,” he paused, glancing at the still blushing Willow for a second before he returned his gaze to the two on the autopsy table, “You had sex.”
Silence.
Silence.
“…What?”
Thank you, Xander.
Owen closed his eyes, refusing to look at Spike as he glared at Ianto. “Thank you for broadcasting that.”
“I’m not done.” Ianto shook his head. “He bit you.”
Owen could almost hear the thoughts running through Jack’s mind. Fucking pervert. “Yes,” he grumbled.
“Did you push him off?”
“No,” he replied in the same grumble.
Ianto bit his lip before his next question. “Did you bite him back?”
Owen blushed, trying and failing to ignore Jack’s comment of kinky, Owen. “Yes.”
Ianto turned to Spike. “Did you push him off?”
“Why would I? Human biting a vampire? Weird, but it’s hot.”
Ianto rolled his eyes. “That’s a no.” He sighed. “Spike, did you ever listen to the old stories?”
Spike snorted. “Those things? Dru used to babble on about them for days. They’re fairy tales.”
“Most of them, yeah,” Ianto agreed, “One of them was real, though.” He stared at both of them for a moment. “Spike, Owen, meet your mate.”
More silence.
“Ianto, that isn’t funny.”
“I’m not joking, Owen,” Ianto said, glancing at Willow and taking a step back as the redhead stepped forward.
“Most vampires don’t mate, because they aren’t faithful, but the ones that do, mate during sex. They bite each other and…they bond,” Willow explained, blushing softly.
“But I’m not a vampire,” Owen pointed out.
Ianto shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s a Master Vampire. By the time they reach that stage, they could bond with a leprechaun if they wanted.”
“I thought he was a leprechaun.”
“I’m not that short!” Owen scowled, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m not mated with him. I can ignore it.”
“You can’t,” Willow said, looking at Owen apologetically, “That’s why you two…for lack of a better word, collapsed. The bond demands that you two remain close constantly until your bodies adjust. That pain you were feeling is what you will feel if you’re apart too long.”
“It’s gonna suck for him when I die, then,” Owen muttered.
“Well…um…about that…”
Owen turned his gaze to Willow. “What?”
“When a non-vampire mates with a vampire it makes them…” she trailed off, looking at Ianto, “I can’t say it again.”
Ianto nodded at Willow, still watching Spike and Owen. “You’re immortal.”
Owen blinked. “…What?”
“You’re immortal,” Ianto looked around the room, taking in the shocked-and in Xander’s case, horrified-looks on everyone else’s faces. They’d barely said a word since this began. “Owen, you’re not going to die. Granted, Spike still can, but it will be harder. He can withstand the sun for a bit longer and only a Slayer’s strength will be enough to stake him. It’s not immortality for him, but it makes him stronger.”
“Him and you,” Willow picked up, “Both of your speed and strength are being heightened as your bodies adjust to the bond.”
“And Spike won’t age like normal vampires,” Ianto added.
“Yeah. He won’t end up looking like the Master.” She shuddered. “Creepy.”
Ianto’s brow furrowed as Jack tensed at the mention of the Master. He never met him.
“So I can punch a bit harder and cut down my running time. That’s supposed to be the plus side of being stuck with him,” he gestured to Spike, “for all eternity? He gets all the perks!”
Ianto shrugged. “Look on the bright side.”
Owen snorted. “What bright side?”
Ianto smirked. “Great sex.”
“I’m not you, Ianto. I don’t like being a vampire’s chew toy.”
“Apparently you did.”
“Bite me.”
“That’s Spike’s job now.”
TBC
Story 3: Damaged Souls - Part 11 >>
Pairings: Faint Jack/Ianto and Willow/Tosh, past mention of Owen/Gwen, mention of Spike/Ianto, and some Spike/Owen. (This chapter)
Word Count: 3,188
Rating: PG-13 (This chapter)
Status: Incomplete
Note: This is the third and final fic of a series I've begun. This story begins shortly after Buffy's Chosen.
Summary: BTVS crossover - When Ianto returns to Cardiff, Jack and the Torchwood team must figure out how to react to the changes in him, as well as how to react to the new friends this unfamiliar Ianto brought with him.
Previous Stories:
Story One: Moving On
Story Two: While You Were Gone
This Story:
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9
New Chapter:
He was cold.
He was cold and his back hurt.
He squeezed his eyes shut, planning to rub them with the heels of his hands, though that plan was quickly demolished when his elbows hit the ceiling.
What?
He opened his eyes a slit, blue orbs popping open when all that was before him was darkness.
Darkness and white plastic.
The same white plastic they used for the body bags.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
Ianto gave a terrified sob, hands searching for a way out, but he was trapped in the bag. Oh, God. He was going to die in here.
He squeezed his eyes shut, tears slipping through, and making little puddles on the floor of the bag.
He didn’t want to die like this.
A choked sob.
Jack...
---
Jack lay on the small bed in his barrack, turned on his stomach, and his pillow bunched under his chin. He felt like he should be crying. Ianto was gone. But all he could muster were dry sobs. It was like he’d cried himself dry.
He hadn’t wanted to leave, hadn’t wanted to close up that bag and admit that Ianto was gone. His hand had shaken when he wrote Ianto’s name on the card that they’d place on his drawer. He doubted anyone would be able to read it.
Lights erupted next to him, and he scrambled to his feet, cursing himself for leaving his gun up in his office.
The lights died as quickly as they came and Jack stared in shock at what was in front of him.
Ianto.
Ianto Jones was lying on his bed alive.
Alive and crying.
He dropped to his knees, cradling Ianto against his chest as he felt a new supply of tears build behind his eyes. He closed his eyes, burying his face in Ianto’s hair, breathing in his scent as tears dripped off his lashes.
Ianto struggled against him, weak and afraid. He calmed as Jack began whispering into his ear, his voice draining any fight left in Ianto. “Jack?” he whispered, barely in a croak. His throat hurt, dry and unused. How long had he…how long had he been in the morgue?
“I’m here,” Jack reassured, his face still buried in Ianto’s hair.
Ianto breathed out slow, relaxing against Jack. He stiffened a second later. “Oh, God. Willow.”
Lights exploded beside them and Jack edged to the wall, Ianto in his arms.
“Willow,” Ianto whispered when the lights died away, scrambling from Jack’s arms and crawling the small distance to Willow; three people in a place that could barely hold one. He latched on, the redhead returning the frantic hug as both of them cried.
“Ianto?” Willow sobbed. “Where...”
“Jack’s quarters. We were…God, what were we doing in the morgue?”
It felt like a hand gripping his heart as Ianto’s question reached his ears. He sounded broken.
Ianto turned to him, eyes searching for an answer. “Jack, what were we doing down there?”
“Dead,” Jack whispered, almost inaudible, “You were dead.”
Ianto and Willow paled, holding on to each other tighter.
---
Gwen hit the coffee machine, palm slamming against the contraption.
It wouldn’t work.
Ianto was the only one that knew how to work it.
Arms wrapped around her from behind and she turned, breathing in Owen’s scent as he held her to his chest. He smelled like sex, nothing new. The smell had always seemed to cling to him after. It always did when they were…
There was nothing between them anymore except for the somewhat awkward friendship that came from sleeping with a coworker. It was comfort. Two friends mourning their loss.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, face buried in the juncture between his neck and his shoulder, her cheek scratching against dry blood.
Her brow furrowed and she pulled back a bit to inspect it. There was movement from behind Owen, alerting her attention to that instead.
She screamed.
She pushed away from Owen, darting around him as she plowed into Ianto, attaching herself to him in a vice grip. “Ianto. Cariad.”
She felt Ianto kiss the crown of her head and she tightened her grip for a second before pulling back. She kissed his cheek.
Jack pulled Ianto against his chest when she pulled away, unwilling to let go of the younger man.
She hugged Willow. “You’re both okay.”
---
Willow smiled, returning the hug of a woman she didn’t really know, touched that Gwen was including her in her joy. “Good as new.” She pulled back, looking around. “Where’s Xander?”
“He was heading to the archives when I left,” Gwen turned towards Ianto, “Tosh is down there, too.”
“M-F?”
“Yes.”
Ianto nodded, glancing at Jack for a moment before he pulled away, offering Willow his hand. He waited until she accepted before leading her towards the archives.
---
Xander sat beside Tosh, listening to her tell her about the picture strip in her hand.
“We’d thought the machine was broken, it was taking so long for the pictures to print,” she smiled fondly at the memory, shaking her head, “I hadn’t even noticed Ianto leave until he poked me with the arm of this little teddy bear I’d seen in one of the claw games.”
Xander chuckled. “He always seemed good at those. Dawn wouldn’t let him walk by one without winning her something.”
“Was he happy there?”
“I think so. I mean, as happy as someone could be when they spend most of their time ‘training’ with Spike.”
“He never told us about him. Were they happy?”
“I guess. They had their thing: fight and screw. You wouldn’t believe the mess they made of Buffy’s basement. She went nuts.”
Tosh frowned. What kind of relationship had Ianto gotten himself into?
“I remember that. She went after us with Mr. Pointy.”
Xander and Tosh snapped their vision to the end of the aisle, both of their eyes widening at the figures in front of them; Ianto was leaning against the long shelf; Willow waved at them, smiling wide.
Tosh was on her feet in a second, throwing herself at Ianto, and sending him into the shelf.
Xander was slower, walking up to Willow, disbelieving. He looked at her, desperate. “Wills?”
Willow smiled, nodding, her arms held wide. She closed them around Xander when he dove at her, shoulders shaking. She squeaked when he lifted her off her feet, spinning them around once.
“I couldn’t call Buffy. I couldn’t tell her you and Ianto were…”
“You don’t need to,” she whispered into his ear, “We’re right here.”
---
Tosh was crying, crying and clutching onto Ianto for all she was worth. “You’re okay.” She pulled back, putting the photo strip in front of his face. “We are going out and we are doing this again. I need more than one picture strip with my best friend.”
“Two is better?”
Tosh hugged him again. “Yes.” She smiled, pulling away again, trading places with Xander. She hugged Willow, happy that she was okay too. She hadn’t had long to speak to Willow before Abaddon-she held back a shudder-came, but she’d liked the American woman. She was nice.
And she had great books.
She pretended she didn’t hear the voice in the back of her head telling her that Willow was absolutely gorgeous.
---
Spike walked into the upper level of the Hub, sending a smirk at Owen, and feeling satisfied with himself when the doctor flushed and darted towards the medical bay. He turned, looking at the conversing Jack and Gwen, raising an eyebrow as Gwen began to smile and hop. What had her so excited? Her friend just died.
He froze as the approaching scents reached his nose and he spun on his heel, spotting them just as they reentered the Hub.
“I can’t get rid of you lot, can I?”
Ianto rolled his eyes. “Apparently not.”
Willow giggled, hugging Spike quick and shooting behind Xander before he could figure out what had happened. “Happy to see you, too, Spike.”
“I’m not,” Xander muttered.
Spike glared at him. “I can hear you, Cyclops.”
“Um,” Tosh cut in softly, “Not that I’m not ecstatic that you’re back and everything, because I am. You’re both okay. But…um…how?”
Ianto shook his head. “I have no idea.”
---
“I may have an idea,” Willow said, raising her hand a bit. She blushed when everyone turned to her, minus Owen who was hiding down in his medical bay and probably couldn’t hear them. She wasn’t sure about him. She knew he’d seen them earlier, back when Gwen had seen them. He and Ianto were friends. It didn’t make sense that he hadn’t said anything.
“Wills, come back to Earth,” Xander joked, breaking her from her thoughts.
“Sorry.” She blushed more. “I…um…While we were…dead, I guess, I had a dream…well, I thought it was a dream.” She sighed. “I saw Tara.”
Xander’s brows shot to the ceiling.
Ianto stood beside Willow, mouthing a don’t ask to the Torchwood team.
“She said something about the Slayer spell that Ianto and I did back in Sunnydale, that we shouldn’t have survived the backlash.”
“So how did we?” Ianto asked.
“We’re strong. She said that the backlash and the level of our magic mixed and that it…” She trailed off, mumbling the rest too quiet to hear.
“Little louder, Wills.”
“Made us immortal,” she whispered. “The PTB thought it would be better to…you know, keep us alive than to let us die.”
“So we’ve been immortal since Sunnydale?”
Willow nodded.
“You’re saying I’m stuck with these visions for eternity?”
Willow nodded again.
“Great,” Ianto muttered, sarcastic.
Willow stared at Ianto, smiling softly. She couldn’t tell Ianto that it was for the best, couldn’t tell him what Tara had told her. She couldn’t tell him that the visions had been killing him. He’d been okay before Sunnydale since they’d happen when he was asleep, but after he’d gone to Sunnydale and they’d gotten worse, his body wasn’t equipped to handle the strain the visions brought.
She couldn’t tell him. He complained about the visions, but she knew he was grateful to them when they could save people.
Ianto returned the smile halfheartedly before he turned, going towards the medical bay.
---
“Is there a reason you’re avoiding me?”
Owen jumped, scalpels falling from his hand as he spun to face Ianto. He met Ianto’s gaze for a split second before he lowered them back to the ground and began picking up the fallen instruments. “I’m not.”
“You are. You didn’t say anything when we came up earlier. I saw you with Gwen.” Ianto shook his head, walking completely into the medical bay and sitting himself on the autopsy table.
“Don’t sit there!” Owen almost shouted, his face almost completely white had it not been the hint of green. He sighed, relieved, when Ianto slid off, and grabbed Ianto’s arm, propelling him to the other side of the small area.
Ianto stared at Owen, turned his gaze to the autopsy table, and back to Owen. His hand rose to his chest, fingers tracing the non-existent marks. “Oh.”
“I couldn’t do it,” Owen murmured. “Couldn’t cut you open and…” He stopped, swallowing thickly.
Ianto’s face softened and he stepped forward, pulling Owen against him much like Jack had done to the doctor after Jack’s return from the dead. He held Owen tight, a few silent tears of his own slipping down his cheeks. He closed his eyes as Owen sobbed out apologies for what he’d said.
They didn’t know how long they stood like that, but when Owen composed himself and pushed Ianto away, he was blushing.
Owen ran his hands through his hair, embarrassed at breaking down, and tugged on his shirt. He looked up, confused, when Ianto snorted back a laugh. “What?”
Ianto smirked. “How was it?”
“What?”
“Spike,” Ianto replied, gesturing to Owen’s neck and making the doctor flush.
“I…I didn’t…”
Ianto chuckled, shaking his head. He turned his back to Owen, unbuttoning his shirt, and exposing his back. He kept his back bare for a minute, letting Owen see the bite marks from encounters past before he pulled his shirt back over his shoulders and rebuttoned the garment. He turned back to Owen, shaking his head again at the dumbfounded expression on Owen’s face, waving his hand in front of the frozen face. “Owen.”
“I…you’re a chew toy.”
Ianto paused for a second, his brain processing Owen’s comment before he laughed.
Owen watched Ianto laugh, trying to decide whether he should be cherishing the laugh like a sap or if he should be yelling at Ianto for not defending himself. He didn’t get to make a decision before he felt a flash of pain shoot across his head and chest. The air rushed out of his lungs and he sunk to his knees.
Ianto was beside him, he knew that. He could hear the man yelling at him and for the others, swearing in what could only be Welsh. He couldn’t answer Ianto. Fuck, he couldn’t even breathe.
He tried to suck air in, only succeeding in a wheezing sound as his lungs refused to function.
Stabs at his chest and in his head. They hurt. Tears pricked his eyes; fear, pain.
Then suddenly it was gone.
Air rushed into his lungs and he toppled to the side, falling half onto Ianto as he tried to suck in every bit of oxygen in the Hub. His lungs filled to capacity-bloody beautiful-and he exhaled slow, repeating the action a second later.
His mind felt foggy as he leaned against Ianto, and he couldn’t summon the strength to lift his head from the Welshman’s shoulder. Ianto’s breath against his ear was uncomfortable, his short hair blowing, and tickling the back of his ear. Fucking hell, he couldn’t move or tell Ianto to stop fucking breathing on him.
“Well, that was weird.”
Female voice.
American.
Willow.
What was weird? What was that? He wanted to ask questions, needed to know what the hell that was, but he couldn’t speak.
“Spike, you okay?”
Spike, Ianto? Spike? Who was the one leaning against you like a fucking damsel in distress? Him. Not the bite-happy vampire.
“Better than him.”
Asshole.
At least he sounded like he was in just as much pain.
He felt arms wrap around him, smelled Jack’s scent as the captain pulled him away from Ianto and up onto the autopsy table. He saw Spike be placed beside him out of the corner of his eye and fell into the blonde when Jack released his grip.
Something washed over him and he…he felt fine.
What the fuck?
Owen lifted his head from Spike’s shoulder with a strength he didn’t have a second ago. He looked around the room, confused and looking for an answer, but everyone else had the same expression.
Fat load of help they were.
“I think…” Willow began, unsure, “I think I need to call Giles.” She ran out of the medical bay a second later.
They were in the same places when Willow returned twenty minutes later, looking sheepish as she pulled Ianto over and out of hearing range of the group as she whispered in his ear. He nodded at her, making the redhead’s face match her hair.
Oh, that couldn’t be good.
They rejoined the group, Ianto being the first to speak. “Spike, Owen,” he paused, glancing at the still blushing Willow for a second before he returned his gaze to the two on the autopsy table, “You had sex.”
Silence.
Silence.
“…What?”
Thank you, Xander.
Owen closed his eyes, refusing to look at Spike as he glared at Ianto. “Thank you for broadcasting that.”
“I’m not done.” Ianto shook his head. “He bit you.”
Owen could almost hear the thoughts running through Jack’s mind. Fucking pervert. “Yes,” he grumbled.
“Did you push him off?”
“No,” he replied in the same grumble.
Ianto bit his lip before his next question. “Did you bite him back?”
Owen blushed, trying and failing to ignore Jack’s comment of kinky, Owen. “Yes.”
Ianto turned to Spike. “Did you push him off?”
“Why would I? Human biting a vampire? Weird, but it’s hot.”
Ianto rolled his eyes. “That’s a no.” He sighed. “Spike, did you ever listen to the old stories?”
Spike snorted. “Those things? Dru used to babble on about them for days. They’re fairy tales.”
“Most of them, yeah,” Ianto agreed, “One of them was real, though.” He stared at both of them for a moment. “Spike, Owen, meet your mate.”
More silence.
“Ianto, that isn’t funny.”
“I’m not joking, Owen,” Ianto said, glancing at Willow and taking a step back as the redhead stepped forward.
“Most vampires don’t mate, because they aren’t faithful, but the ones that do, mate during sex. They bite each other and…they bond,” Willow explained, blushing softly.
“But I’m not a vampire,” Owen pointed out.
Ianto shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s a Master Vampire. By the time they reach that stage, they could bond with a leprechaun if they wanted.”
“I thought he was a leprechaun.”
“I’m not that short!” Owen scowled, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m not mated with him. I can ignore it.”
“You can’t,” Willow said, looking at Owen apologetically, “That’s why you two…for lack of a better word, collapsed. The bond demands that you two remain close constantly until your bodies adjust. That pain you were feeling is what you will feel if you’re apart too long.”
“It’s gonna suck for him when I die, then,” Owen muttered.
“Well…um…about that…”
Owen turned his gaze to Willow. “What?”
“When a non-vampire mates with a vampire it makes them…” she trailed off, looking at Ianto, “I can’t say it again.”
Ianto nodded at Willow, still watching Spike and Owen. “You’re immortal.”
Owen blinked. “…What?”
“You’re immortal,” Ianto looked around the room, taking in the shocked-and in Xander’s case, horrified-looks on everyone else’s faces. They’d barely said a word since this began. “Owen, you’re not going to die. Granted, Spike still can, but it will be harder. He can withstand the sun for a bit longer and only a Slayer’s strength will be enough to stake him. It’s not immortality for him, but it makes him stronger.”
“Him and you,” Willow picked up, “Both of your speed and strength are being heightened as your bodies adjust to the bond.”
“And Spike won’t age like normal vampires,” Ianto added.
“Yeah. He won’t end up looking like the Master.” She shuddered. “Creepy.”
Ianto’s brow furrowed as Jack tensed at the mention of the Master. He never met him.
“So I can punch a bit harder and cut down my running time. That’s supposed to be the plus side of being stuck with him,” he gestured to Spike, “for all eternity? He gets all the perks!”
Ianto shrugged. “Look on the bright side.”
Owen snorted. “What bright side?”
Ianto smirked. “Great sex.”
“I’m not you, Ianto. I don’t like being a vampire’s chew toy.”
“Apparently you did.”
“Bite me.”
“That’s Spike’s job now.”
TBC
Story 3: Damaged Souls - Part 11 >>